


the lady is a tramp

by lilliputianmerriell



Series: there is a house in new orleans [1]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crossdressing, Explicit Sexual Content, Liberties taken with Music History which are Truly Unforgivable, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia & Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 10:54:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilliputianmerriell/pseuds/lilliputianmerriell
Summary: Eugene is reunited with Merriell Shelton in the most unexpected of places.





	the lady is a tramp

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got this uploaded to AO3 in it's entirety rather than having it broken it up into pieces over at my Tumblr. Feels a lot more wholesome this way. Feels good.

The sun is shining brightly through the windows, belying the oncoming Fall that was right around the corner and Eugene’s terrible mood. He’d been sitting on this train for what felt like hours, anxiety gnawing away at him and making room in his mind for doubt.

It had been a rash decision, he knew. He’d been eating breakfast with his family around the dining table like every other day, only half-listening to his brother, who was visiting that morning, drone on and on about the bank. Eugene didn’t know what had triggered it, he’d been doing as well as one could expect in his circumstances, it could have anything: maybe Edward’s incessant, nonsensical self-importance, or his mother’s unwanted concerned glances that clearly said she didn’t understand the changes that had happened in her youngest son, or even the persistent nightmares that plagued him every night that made him so bone-deep tired but unable to get any decent sleep, that caused him to shoot up from his chair drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Eugene, sweetheart?” His mother had asked confused, her voice so very careful as if Eugene was made of glass. His father looked equal parts worried and knowing, while Edward was simply gaping at him, not used to being so rudely interrupted.

 _What am I doing here_ , Eugene had thought wildly as the need to be elsewhere had grabbed him firmly, almost suffocating in intensity. “I need to go,” he’d said simply as he turned and ran out of the house, grabbing keys and his wallet on the way out, ignoring his mother’s calls as he let his feet carry him away from Mobile.

“New Orleans Crescent city, home to the delta blues and the French quarter. Watch your wallets, pockets and watches. This is New Orleans.”

Eugene is snapped out of his stupor at the conductor’s cheery announcement, the tinny noise from the trains’ speaker system sounding through his compartment as a few people are getting up from their seats.

Reluctantly Eugene gets out of his own seat and made his way onto the platform, not quite sure why his feet had carried him all the way to the train station in Mobile and onto one of the wagons, but the address which had been tucked away in his wallet for months now had felt like it was physically burning through the thick leather and into his hand, serving as a painful reminder. A reminder of something unfinished, and maybe once he got to see Shelton for a last time and get a proper farewell he would be able to let go and move on with his life. Start school, start a family. Not lounge around in the garden in his dressing gown, passively watching the days go by at a snail’s pace, because the prospect of doing something, anything, productive with himself seemed like such a humongous and daunting task that he couldn’t will himself to move.

Eugene hurries off the platform and pulls out the address in the process to have a look at it. The street-name is unfamiliar to him but approaching a friendly-looking woman at the information desk at the station he is pointed in the right direction.

The sun was starting to sink behind the horizon as Eugene is weaving his way through the streets of New Orleans, following the nice lady’s directions as carefully as he’s able while remaining mindful of the curious looks he’s getting from strangers as he’s getting deeper into what would appear to be the one of the poorer areas of the city.

He remembers one of those rare moments when Shelton told him about New Orleans and his home, saying how the city became alive at night with song and dance, as if it never really slept, though this also brought out some sketchy characters to be mindful of if you were not a native. Thieves and scammers often took advantage of naïve tourists, pretending to be fortune tellers, selling fake gris-gris for extortionate prices, putting on a big show for the tourists to later discover their valuables missing after these characters were long gone.

“Don’t trust ‘em people Sledgehamma’” Shelton had drawled at him, his eyes gleaming in the darkness of their foxhole as he’s looking up at Eugene who had been keeping watch, “Especially not the Cajun women. They’ll always get ya good. Snare you in, place a hook in you’ heart and before you know it, they’ve stolen both you’ heart and you’ money.”

He was probably being paranoid like he was prone to these days, but the feeling of several eyes on him accompanied by that particular memory and the darkening sky made Eugene pick up his pace.

Shelton’s apartment was another fifteen-minute walk from there, and by the time Eugene was standing on the street outside and scowling up at the man’s apartment, the sun had set completely. It was now dark around him, and the street was filled with jazz and unfamiliar noise that made Eugene wonder once again what he was doing here, seeking Shelton out like this. He’d made the decision in a state of panic, but he’d easily calmed enough by the time he reached the train station to turn around and go back home, so why hadn’t he?

Sure, he had been furious and devastated when he’d woken up on the train without Shelton, but he could understand the man’s reasoning, that a clean break was probably the best way to move on with their lives. That might have worked for Shelton at least, but not for Eugene who had just fled from Mobile and his family to seek out this man who meant so much to him.

Because he did care a lot for Shelton. Eugene was man enough to acknowledge that what they’d shared was deeper than the comradery he had shared with Burgie or Bill or Jay, or any other marine for that matter, and he’d thought that Shelton had felt the same but maybe he’d been wrong.

Eugene sighs, exhaustion coursing through him as it feels like his thoughts are spiralling out of control. This line of thinking was hardly productive and been bothering him all day, trying to justify to himself why he’d come here to seek out this man who clearly had no interest in seeing him if he could so easily leave Eugene without a simple goodbye. He came up short of course, there were no sane way to justify these rash actions to himself without admitting to some truths he wasn’t sure if he were prepared to face.

“Jesus Christ,” Eugene mutters to himself as he pushes forward, his feet carrying him inside the apartment building and up three flights of stairs to a plain door with the number 19 on it, with the plate for the number 1 missing. Before he has time to chicken out and get on the next train back to Mobile he knocks at the hard wood and waits.

And waits.

This was Shelton’s apartment, right? The corps hadn’t given him the wrong address, had they?

“Are you looking for someone, dear?” a sharp voice asks, interrupting Eugene’s bout of panic before it gets time to properly manifest.

Eugene turns around to see an elderly woman stand in the opposite doorway from the one where he was standing, looking at him curiously. She was practically ancient, her skin tan and wrinkled, probably from years exposure to the sun, and her white, long hair tied into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her mouth was pressed into a firm line, like she wasn’t accustomed or appreciative of strangers just turning up in the apartment building like that. Or maybe she was just sceptical because someone was looking for Shelton as he wasn’t exactly the type to invite you back for tea at his place.

“Uh, yes ma’am,” Eugene says, feeling like a schoolboy from the way she was scrutinizing him, “I am looking for Merriell Shelton? He and I served together, and I was told to look for him here. This is his address, isn’t it?”

The elderly lady’s eyes light up at this and her cold attitude melts away, “Oh, it’s great to meet one of Merriell’s fellow marines. Yes, that is that little rascal’s apartment where you’re standin’, but I’m afraid he hasn’t been home since last night.”

“Oh,” Eugene says pitifully, deflating slightly at these news. He hoped to stop his own torment the moment Shelton opened the door, but apparently that bastard wasn’t even home when Eugene had built up the courage to come here, “Well, do you know when he’ll be back?”

The woman hums thoughtfully then shakes her head, “Unfortunately not, sweetheart. Merriell has a tendency to come and go as he pleases, nothin’ or no one pinning that unruly boy down,” She tsks at this, as if this has been a topic that frequently bothered her, “He could be back tonight but it’s just as likely he won’t be back before tomorrow afternoon.”

If possible, Eugene’s next “oh,” was even more pitiful than the previous one. He hadn’t packed anything, he just had the clothes on his back and some money that might last him a few days, hardly enough to start a witch-hunt for Merriell Shelton around New Orleans when he could be practically anywhere.

“You were close?”

The elderly lady’s tone had taken a sympathetic note that reminded him of his mother. It was warm and comforting, and made Eugene just want to confess to everything in hopes that maybe he’d feel better, but that was dangerous territory to discuss with a stranger, so instead he just committed to a weak “yeah,”, as if that could even start to encapsulate all the things Shelton had been to him.

“Well,” the woman starts, seemingly being able to pick up more meaning in his one-worded response than she should have, “If you’re really looking for Merriell then I’d suggest you go look at the Ol’ Playhouse down by the river. If you’ve any hope of finding that boy, that’s you’ safest bet.”

After profusely thanking the lady who smiled at him with a knowing smile, he hurries out of the apartment building, walking as fast as he was able in order to find this bar that she’d described before he lost his courage and just jumped on the next train to Mobile.

It turned out that the Old Playhouse was a dingy looking bar another twenty-minute walk away from Shelton’s apartment with a handful of occupants inside, some of them looking sourly at Eugene as he walks inside, but it’s instantly obvious to Eugene that none of them are Shelton as their glares does not compare to that thousand-yard stare that would make his whole body shudder.

“Excuse me,” Eugene says as he politely addresses the large man behind the bar, “I’m looking for Merriell Shelton, has he been here?”

The burly bartender turns to him with a look of complete disinterest, eyeing Eugene up and down as if assessing him. Whatever conclusions he comes to make him huff unimpressed before turning back to tend to bottles behind the counter with a grunt, “Not seen ‘im.”

“Well, do you know where I can find him?” Eugene presses, doing his best to stay polite as frustration wells up within him at the bartender’s attitude, “We served together and –,”

“Listen kid, I just told ya I’ve not seen the boy. Now, are ya gonna order somethin’ or what?”

Dejected, Eugene orders a bourbon and settles at the far corner of the bar, half-listening to the faint music that was sounding through the place. He had the feeling that this bartender wouldn’t hesitate in throwing him out of the door face first if he was given the chance, so Eugene did his best to make himself as unnoticeable and unremarkable as possible. He decides to stick around for a bit to see if Shelton turns up, as Eugene didn’t have a clue where to look for him next, and considering that loitering in a pub was more socially acceptable than loitering at private property he might as well have a drink while he was at it. 

It’s another three drinks before Eugene decides that he’s overstayed his welcome and fishes out a few notes of his wallet to pay for his tab, but notices as he does this that the bartender is nowhere to be seen. Normally he would have left the money on the counter, but by the way some of the other tenants are eyeing him up he wasn’t quite sure if that’d be the best place for safekeeping. Besides, he didn’t want the bartender to think he’d run away on his tab.

A portly man was sitting at the other end of the bar, seemingly the only other person in the room not eyeing Eugene suspiciously, so Eugene approaches him, saying, “Sorry to bother you, Sir, but you didn’t see where the bartender went, did you?”

The man, clearly not all that interested in Eugene, just glances at him before taking a sip of his drink, “Yes, he just went downstairs to fetch something from the bar there.”

Interest piqued, Eugene can’t help himself from asking, “There’s a downstairs?”

“Of course,” the man says matter-of-factly, as if this should have been obvious, “Where do you think the music is coming from?”

When the man mentioned it, Eugene did notice that there was a distinct lack of any record players or instruments in the room and feels a bit embarrassed he had been so focused on seeing Shelton that he hadn’t been paying attention. However, this new information also ignites a spark of hope in his chest, because it meant that maybe finding Shelton wasn’t entirely hopeless after all.

“How do I get downstairs?” Eugene asks, suddenly feeling more eager than he had in a long time, the anxiety from earlier that day at the prospect of seeing Shelton again drowned out by three glasses of brandy.

The portly man points to a door tucked in next to the bar, so inconspicuous that Eugene hadn’t noticed that before either. Thanking the man, Eugene makes his way over, pushing the door open to a set of stairs leading downwards into a dimly lit corridor that resonates with music ( _“– But social circles spin too fast for me, my ‘hobohemia’ is the place to be –”_ ) which he follows it into a large underground room filled with significantly more people than the bar upstairs.

Eugene stands there stunned as he watches the scenes in front of him. Women were dancing with women, and men were sitting so close together in their seats there were barely room for air between them. Eugene had heard of these types of illegal clubs from the other guys in the Marines, but he’d never been to one himself, so he didn’t know what to expect but the ones that had been described to him had never sounded this… normal, always sounding more outrageous and sinful than what he was seeing now.

The room was not anything particularly special or extravagant. It was dimly lit with a few plush loveseats pushed up against the walls and a much more well-stocked bar than the one on ground-level was placed in the far corner. Eight small tables were scattered around the middle of the room with enough room for moving around between them, which several couples did as they danced along happily to the music being played by the live band onstage.  

_“– I like the free, fresh wind in my hair. Life without care, I’m broke, it’s oke –,”_

The breathy and rich voice reaches Eugene’s ears and he becomes aware of the girl singing onstage who is smiling broadly as she’s jigging to the upbeat tune of the song. Eugene is captivated as he watches her move, tanned skin appearing to glow in contrast with the gold, loose-fitting dress that is wrapped around her, only cinched at the waist by what looks like a worn man’s belt, and long dark curls that swirls around her as her slender frame dances around on the stage.

 _“– I like the green grass under my shoes. What can I lose, I’m flat, that’s that –,”_ Her voice is slightly deep and rough for a female, but Eugene decides it suits the mood of the song well as he stares mesmerized at the stage, _“– I’m alone when I lower my lamp, that’s why this lady is a tramp!”_

The song finishes, and the room applauds the girl as she bows with a smirk that sends an unpleasant jolt of familiarity through Eugene who gapes disbelieving as the girl walk off the stage while blowing an exaggerated kiss at the crowd.

He doesn’t have time to analyze what it means though as a large hand clamps down on Eugene’s shoulder, making him jump in fright. It’s the bartender from upstairs, staring angrily at Eugene who is sure he visibly swallows from how dry his mouth has become.

“Oy! Ya ain’t s’pposed to be down here! Who let ya in?” he barks at Eugene, but before he gets to answer he is physically steered away from the room and through a door which he prays is a backdoor where he will simply get kicked out and not where he’ll be beaten to a pulp. Marine or not, there’s no way that Eugene would be able to take this man on without a firearm.

The New Orleans’ cold city air hits Eugene like a punch to the face as he’s pushed outside, almost tripping over himself by the rough handling. He risks a moment to collect himself as the world tilts slightly on its axis, leaning heavily on his knees as he feels eyes burning into his back.

There’s a moment of silence before a loud snort sounds in the small alley behind the Old Playhouse, “You’re in good mood tonight, I see.”

It’s not quite the same girlish voice as before, but it has the same breathy quality to it that Eugene recognizes, and he feels a bit humiliated that this beautiful girl is here to see him getting thrown out like this.

“You’d be too if ya caught this pervert sneakin’ into the club without an invite,” the bartender says, his tone softening as he addresses the girl.

Eugene dares a glance over his shoulder to look at them. Or more specifically the girl, who is leaning against the building’s brick wall and smoking a cigarette, her features partially obscured by her long hair, though Eugene is able to catch how her eyes roam over him in almost a predatory fashion which makes him shiver uncomfortably.

She considers him for a moment longer as she takes a long drag of her cigarette, before saying in the same breathy voice as before, “It’s okay Greg, he’s with me.”

Eugene gapes at her confused, but the bartender who is apparently called Greg looks only mildly affronted as he says, “Ya sure?” It sounds to Eugene he is mostly asking to be polite, as if he’s not expecting the girl to change her mind.  

“Yeah. Now fetch me a drink, will ya?” she says flirtatiously, the same familiar smirk as before returning to her pretty features as she shoves him playfully. “And one for my friend as well!” she shouts after him as Greg is descending the stairs, her voice dropping its breathy quality and turning deeper as she yells.

Greg grumbles something but it’s completely incoherent to Eugene’s ears, who is unable to take his attention away from this person in front of him to notice any other thing that could possibly be happening around him. Nips could have attacked right there and then, and Eugene would have been too shocked to care.

The girl huffs a laugh, taking another long puff of her smoke, her voice turning even deeper as she slips into a familiar, lazy draw, “The fuck you doin’ pissin’ of Gregory, Sledgehammer? Did ya not see the size of him, man’s built like a fuckin’ tank.”

Eugene continues to stare at Shelton disbelievingly, unable to reconcile this beautiful being before him with the filthy war dog he had spent endless nights and days with on those godforsaken islands. It’d be a lie if Eugene said that he hadn’t spent hours of his days imagining this particular moment. He’d seen himself yelling at Shelton, hit him, maybe even envelop him in a hug, and each time Shelton would take whatever Eugene would imagine dishing out at him, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought he’d be standing outside an illegal gay club at night with Shelton dressed up as this mystifying creature.

As if reading Eugene’s thoughts from his shocked silence, Shelton quirks an amused eyebrow at him, “Let me guess, not exactly what you expected, am I right?”

There are so many questions Eugene had planned to ask, that he wanted to ask, but all he musters is a faint, “Snafu, what the fuck? What are you doing?”

Shelton shrugs carelessly, as if he’d not just been caught cross-dressing like it was a normal occurrence for him. “Not an Ella Fitzgerald fan?” he asks jokingly as he considers Eugene critically from behind the cloud of smoke he expels from his mouth, “Figures.”

Eugene shoots him a withering look, knowing perfectly well that Shelton knew exactly what he’d meant, “Don’t play dumb, Shelton, it doesn’t suit you just like that dress doesn’t.”

Rolling his eyes at him, Shelton stomps out his cigarette with the heels he’s wearing, “I believe this is what your educated ass calls escapism, manifests in all shapes and forms, or so I’ve been told. Surely you must understand the need for it.”

“Oh, all too well,” Eugene hisses venomously, images of the loneliness of home flashing in his mind, “But most of us are able to cope without the cross-dressing part. Say, is this a permanent change or just when you need to get in touch with your womanly side?”

“Screw you, Gene. We ain’t all rich and fancy like you. Can’t afford distractions in the shape of extravagant travelling or a household which tends to your every fuckin’ need,” Shelton is doing his best to hide the spite in his voice, but Eugene knows him so intimately that it would have been impossible for him not to hear it.

“Fuck you, you have no idea what it’s been like for me!”

“Yeah? Well, it’s not like you know what it’s been like for me either, so don’t come here and judge me like you’re fuckin’ doing!” Shelton growls at him, the sneer on his face shattering the illusion of beauty Eugene had seen there just seconds before.

In all honesty, Eugene doesn’t care if Shelton wants to prance around in a dress, in fact he’d encourage it if it helped him cope with the aftermath of the war, but he’s so angry. He’s been so angry for so long now without really acknowledging it, but seeing Shelton again just opened a floodgate that Eugene had no idea how to close again. Deep down he knows it’s because of Shelton leaving him on a train, to have to deal with all of this alone when Eugene had thought that Shelton would always be there, but it’s easier to be angry about what is right in front of him than the inexplicable feeling that had bothered him ever since he’d woken up on that train.

Unaware of Eugene’s thoughts, Shelton sweeps his arm around him animatedly, the gold material of his dress billowing out as he presses on, “No one here knows me as Merriell Shelton, or Snafu the fucked-up marine who pulls teeth out of dead Japs. I get to be someone else without all that shit, do you have any idea how liberating that is? The only time during my day I’m able to take my mind off all the shit that happened in the fuckin’ Pacific is when I’m doing this, so don’t you fuckin’ dare come here and talk down on me.”

The intense wide-eyed look Shelton was giving him made Eugene suspect that the other hadn’t planned on revealing so much, but he was clearly so fired up about this that his usual careless façade had faded away. Or maybe Shelton was just as messed up as Eugene felt.

Eugene sighed exasperated, opting for a different angle on this, “I understand that Snaf, I really do, but this isn’t you. You are going to get yourself killed!”

Shelton’s brows furrow angrily behind the dark curls, making him look more like himself, as he folds his arms and levels Eugene with a dead stare, “Being an entertainer has never been illegal, Sledge.”

Shelton was always so fucking unreasonable, it grates at Gene’s nerves, “Oh, is that’s what it’s called now, because last time I heard talk about it I am pretty sure I heard both the words illegal and perversion being used.” So much for opting for a different angle, his mind supplies helpfully.

The quiet fury turns Shelton’s tone cold, it’s a new anger Eugene had never seen the other exude before, “What are you even fuckin’ doing here, Sledge? Did you come here just to shove your ignorance in my face and call me a pervert, or do you have an actual fuckin’ reason for being here?”

“Right now, I’m asking myself that very question Snafu,” Eugene says lowly, his voice getting an edge to it he hasn’t heard himself use since Okinawa, “Oh yeah, maybe it’s because I thought you gave a shit about me but then you upped and left without even a fucking goodbye. I trusted you to always have my back but instead you chose to abandon me, leaving me to deal with all this shit alone. So yeah, I was kind of hoping to talk to you about that, but I can tell that you don’t actually care.” 

Shelton looks like Eugene had just physically struck him, for once rendered speechless.

The air is heavy with tension as the door swings open to reveal Greg standing there with two tumblers in hand. He pauses in the doorway as if sensing the thick atmosphere in the small alley, and glances between them, his gaze lingering at Shelton’s tense form.

“Everythin’ alright here?” the question is concerned, but the glare he sends in Eugene’s direction is so fiercely protective that Eugene might have combusted into flames if that had been remotely possible.

Eugene watches as something in Shelton’s persona shift, his movements becoming less languid and more graceful. He musters up a weak, reassuring smile that he sends in Greg’s direction, clearly trying to convey the same cheery, flirtatious personality he did previously, though not quite successful by the defensive hunch of his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Shelton breathes, his voice back to its’ lighter, feminine pitch, delicately tucking a curly strand behind his ear. If Eugene wasn’t still so angry, he would be impressed and mildly shocked by the complete turnover in Shelton, because he really was good at this whole female impersonator business.

Greg looks unconvinced though, and Shelton swats gently at the bartender’s arm before snatching one of the drinks from his hand, downing it in one go.

Greg looks even more unconvinced at this, and Shelton sighs, “Really Gregory, it’s fine. You worry more than my maman. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself,” at these words, he sends a challenging look in Eugene’s direction who resolutely meets the gaze head-on. Eugene had never been one to back down when it came to Shelton after all.

“You take this one too, I think your friend might have had enough,” Greg says, pressing the cold tumbler into Shelton’s hands who briefly squeezes Greg’s fingers in gratitude.

Eugene feels an inexplicable surge of jealousy at the display and he wants nothing more than to just get out of there, not wanting to give Shelton any more verbal ammo to fire at him, so he snaps, “I can see that my presence here isn’t wanted. See you around, Snafu.”

The yell that echoes through the alleyway and chases after Eugene as he rounds the corner and heads down the way sounds almost desperate, but Eugene’s own anguish makes him quench the urge to turn around and run back to Shelton.

He had a lot of thinking to do after all.

…

Eugene wakes up late the next morning after a restless sleep in the motel he stayed in overnight. It definitely wasn’t the best and in a pretty rough neighborhood, and his mother would probably have a fit if she knew, but it was the only one available that he could find that was still open after the last night’s disastrous reunion.  

Just thinking about it made guilt and regret curl uncomfortably in his gut. Eugene knows he acted completely unacceptable, taking out his anger and frustrations on how Shelton chose to live his life instead of dealing with the actual issue that was Eugene’s feelings of abandonment. As much as he’d wanted to talk about it honestly and openly last night, the words just wouldn’t let themselves be known, instead replacing themselves with ignorant, hurtful comments that Eugene didn’t even really mean.

Sure, he knew very little about what Shelton was doing and everything surrounding it, but he had never considered himself as someone who considered that lifestyle a sin. Despite how atrocious and disgusting he’d been told that this ‘abnormal’ behavior in relation to sex and sexuality was growing up, Eugene had never understood the revulsion that was preached in church or school.

Maybe it was because he himself had never experienced intimacy with a girl, but that had never seemed to appeal to him the way it seemed to have done to the other boys his age. The way they used to describe it always made something uncomfortable twist in Eugene’s gut as it was how he thought he used to feel about Sid before he’d met Shelton.

Eugene never cared to examine these feelings carefully before, to articulate them in his mind, but thinking about it now he knew what these feelings meant, knew yesterday when he had laid eyes on his old foxhole partner. Only now it seemed amplified, as if all the blood and dirt in Okinawa hadn’t allowed for such human emotions to properly unfold, and that scared him more than Eugene could even begin to comprehend. There was no other explanation as to why he felt so strongly about Shelton leaving him, the sense of complete and utter abandonment, thinking that they would support each other through this in their own way by mutual understanding, respect and… and suddenly he was able to put a finger on that inexplicable feeling he’d had since he woke up without Shelton in his life.

As much as everything within him was screaming at him to run straight back to Shelton and demand that he accepts his apology right then, Eugene wasn’t quite ready to face the other man yet, wanting to give it some time and reflect upon this new discovery.

So he wanders aimlessly around New Orleans, a city so full of life and color, Eugene does his best to take it all in as he explores the streets and alleys. The city is a lot more diverse than Mobile ever was, both in culture and its’ people, and Eugene wonders that even if queer activities were strictly illegal, that Shelton wouldn’t be prosecuted here like he would have been in ‘Bama for cross-dressing which have frequently associated with homosexuality.

But was Shelton a homosexual? It had never occurred to Eugene before that he might be, but then again, the overhanging threat of getting court-martialed might have prevented a variety of illicit activities. Judging by his behavior yesterday, Eugene certainly suspected that he might be, especially by the way he so easily flirted with Greg.

Eugene felt a bitter frown form on his face as he recalls the easy attitude Shelton had adopted when Greg had been around. Shelton, as infuriating as the man was, had been the only thing keeping Eugene sane through the war with his rare, hesitant attempts at comfort and care, and to see him act so intimate with anyone else made a surge of jealousy well up within Eugene that made him literally stomp back in the direction of the Old Playhouse.

It was already well into the afternoon when Eugene barges back into the beatdown bar. He exchanges a glare with Gregory the stupid bartender whose lips presses into a thin line but refrains from saying anything as Eugene makes his way to the door next to the counter, hearing the faint music carrying up from downstairs as he pushes through.

This early in the day the underground club is blessedly empty. Eugene spots Shelton easily as he sits by the piano alone, his long fingers dancing expertly over the keys as a dark and demure song flows through the room while Shelton sings quietly to himself, “ _What happens in the shadows, no one has to know…_ ”

Eugene is transfixed once again, much like the night before, but now for entirely different reasons. Last night had undoubtedly been about a physical attraction, but seeing Shelton now, sitting there in washed out jeans with holes at the knees and a plain, white shirt, Eugene feels another type of attraction well up within him.

“ _Strength is in your weakness, this fire is in your blood, hanging from that hope. But everybody knows – there’s something in the shadows_.” ¨

Eugene doesn’t recognize the lyrics, but he likes the feeling to them, and it suits Shelton’s soothing vocals who are not the light, breathy voice he used to perform yesterday but rather a raspy one Eugene recognizes from long nights stuck in a small foxhole together when they were both too terrified to sleep.

“Eugene?”

The music had stopped, and Shelton was standing at the edge of the stage looking uncharacteristically hesitant as he considers Eugene while he chews on his lower lip. His natural hair was unruly like always, his short curls sticking up at odd angles and curling around his ears, making him look almost angelic where he stood with the light from the stage illuminating him from behind to create the illusion of a halo. 

“Snafu,” Eugene musters, his mouth drier than Peleliu as he’s confronted with the figure of desire of his recent revelation as Shelton hops down from the stage and approaches him, close enough to touch.  

“Gene,” Shelton repeats, averting his eyes as his hands twitch nervously at his sides, his fingers picking at his nails. There’s a long pause as Shelton chews on his lips again, a frown knitting his dark brows together in concentration, “About what happened that day –,”

Eugene lifts a hand abruptly, effectively cutting Shelton off, “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says, sounding sharper than he intended and he watches as Shelton flinches.

Shelton heaves a resigned breath, obviously trying to hide the hurt that had briefly passed over his face at Eugene’s words as he squares his shoulders, “Alright, I guess we have nothing to talk about then,” he says, his voice void of any emotion.

He turns to walk away, and Eugene has this sinking feeling in his gut that felt a lot like panic as he watches the other man turn his back to him. Before he’s aware of what he is doing, Eugene launches himself forward and grabs a hold of Shelton’s wrist which feels so delicate in Eugene’s hand.

Shelton turns to him angrily, his expression thunderous as it tended to do when he felt particularly defensive or hurt. His mouth was opening to say something Eugene knew would be cruel, but before he gets the chance to Eugene exclaims in a rush, “I came to apologize.”

The silence that falls between them barely lasts for a second before Eugene carries on, finding that now that he’s begun he can’t stop, worried what Shelton will say if Eugene gives him the chance to speak, “I didn’t mean what I said last night, I was upset. Upset with you and the world, probably myself too, and then I saw you dressed like that and with Greg, and all these feelings just _overwhelmed_ me so much I didn’t know what to do.”

Shelton refuse to look at Eugene, his eyes trained his shoes as he carefully says, “Sledge, you can’t just barge in here like this, so clearly angry with me for what I did and not expect –,”

“No, but,” Eugene starts, trying to form the right words, “I know we need to talk about it, just… not yet, okay?”

He gives Shelton’s wrist a gentle squeeze and Shelton’s fingers twitches in response, though he is still refusing to meet Eugene’s eyes, so Eugene continues, “Right now I just want to apologize for my behavior last night, it was totally unacceptable showing up here unannounced and say those things. I understand why you’re doing it – all of it, I understand the need to get away, it’s the very reason I am here in New Orleans right now because… I needed to get away too.”

Shelton finally looks at him and Eugene is taken aback by the intensity in his eyes, “Don’t say that if ya don’t mean it. I’d rather you were honest with me than pretend you’ alright with this, ‘cause I know ya think it ain’t natural.”

“No,” Eugene says, frustrated, “You’re not listening, I said I get it, I needed to escape too. Home was just too much and too little all at once, and no one seemed to understand why I wasn’t able to just go back to how things were, not even Sid or my brother. I thought I’d come to New Orleans to get my goodbye but after what you said last night I think what I need the most is someone to know me for who I am now instead of for who I was.”

Shelton frowns in confusion but doesn’t attempt to twist out of Eugene’s grip which is still holding on almost desperately.

“What I am trying to say is that I think… for me? For me, my escape is you, because I don’t have to pretend to be someone else, someone that isn’t… broken,” Eugene spits out the last bit, the word tasting bitter in his mouth but knows it is an admission he needs to make for both Shelton and himself.  

The air feels heavy with tension at those words, and now it is Eugene who has to look away from Shelton, whose intense gaze feels too overbearing as some unreadable emotion blaze behind the blue hues of his irises.

Long fingers brushes against Eugene’s cheek gently and Eugene’s attention shoots up to Shelton’s face who is crowding into his personal space, his large eyes searching Eugene’s for something before he chuckles weakly, “It’s kind of ironic, ain’t it? I mean, we’re both trying to run away from something, but while you’re running away from the person everyone expects ya to be, I’m running away from myself.”

Eugene feels like he could drown in this sudden closeness between them. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it had never felt this intimate before, even when they had huddled up together to sleep and taking comfort in each other’s warmth during cold nights, and Eugene exhales shakily.

They stand still like that for a while, Eugene simply clutching onto Shelton’s wrist while his hand continues the careful stroking of Eugene’s cheek. Eugene doesn’t even realize he had been tearing up before Shelton brushes away a wayward tear from underneath his eye with the pad of his thumb.

Shelton’s tender smile is hesitant as their eyes lock, and Eugene remembers this side of Shelton that rarely anyone got to see; as someone that seemed to care so much but being so hardened by war that he no longer quite knew how to express it. It made Eugene’s heart twinge and swell at the same time, knowing how hard it must be for Shelton to show this side of himself, but that he tried so hard for Eugene despite how vulnerable it makes him feel.

No wonder Eugene loves him.

The thought makes Eugene flinch away from Shelton’s touch, and he mourns the loss immediately as he sees Shelton’s face fall. Scrambling to save the situation, knowing that Shelton must have read it wrong, Eugene stutters awkwardly, “Uh, I… also wanted to say, I actually… really enjoyed the little I got to see of the show last night. I didn’t know you sang. You’re really… quite good.”

Eugene wanted to throw himself into the Mississippi river right then and let it carry him all the way back to the Pacific, horrified with himself that he had messed this up already, but the thought had come so out of nowhere and was something he hadn’t been quite sure if he was ready to admit to himself even in his own thoughts quite yet that the sudden appearance of it startled him.

Shelton for once seemed to take some pity on Eugene as a smirk forms on his face, “There’s another one tonight,” he drawls as he lights a cigarette before slinking back into Eugene’s space. He’s not quite touching this time, but Eugene can feel the puffs of smoke on his face as Shelton use the same breathy voice that Eugene had heard yesterday to purr into his ear, “Why don’t you stick around, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Eugene’s cheeks heat up at this and he’s sure he’s redder than a beet as he blinks at Shelton’s self-satisfied smirk, “What about Greg?” Eugene blurts, reddening even further which he didn’t even know he was capable of.  

Shelton draws back, confusion once again evident as he says in his normal voice, “What about him?”

Embarrassed that they are even discussing this but not being able to let it go, Eugene says, “Aren’t you and him…?”

Gregory, the stupid, angry bartender, which Eugene could admit to being objectively handsome now that he’d seen him in daylight. Gregory who seemed so overly protective of Shelton, and who Shelton seemed to have a thing for by the way he’d treated him last night. Not that Eugene was envious or anything, he just didn’t know that Shelton was into big, muscly men with anger issues.

The sudden cackle that escapes Shelton is a bit of a surprise, but at least Eugene manages not to flinch this time around as Shelton continues laughing, wiping at his eyes, “Gregory? ‘You serious Sledge? Greg’s the owner of this place and a friend, what did you t’ink?”

“But last night…”

“Ya jealous or somethin’?” Shelton asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively though the laughing tears still in his eyes kind of ruin the effect. He chuckles again, “He just very skeptical of strangers and gets very protective of his employees. Illegal underground gay club and all that tends not to be the most receptive of positive attention, ya know?”

Shelton turn serious then, easily detecting Eugene’s anxiety, “Really Gene, I ain’t seeing Greg, nor anyone for that matter,” he snorts humorlessly, “Datin’ ain’t exactly what’s been on my mind while I’ve been back, honestly.”    

Eugene would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved, despite feeling selfish for being relieved that Shelton wasn’t seeing anyone. He wanted Shelton to be happy. After all they’d been through he definitely deserved it, but if Eugene was honest with himself he wanted it to be him that gave Shelton that happiness, not anyone else.

“So, will you be here?” Shelton asks again, more hesitantly this time and not putting on that act, seemingly worried that Eugene will say no.

What Shelton doesn’t know is that Eugene had never really been able to deny him anything.

…

Later that night, Eugene was seated in a plush armchair alone at one of the tables, nourishing a brandy which Shelton had retrieved for him along with its’ bottle that was over half-full from the bar upstairs as Eugene wasn’t a hundred-present sure that Greg wouldn’t poison him if he tried to make the order himself. He had already made good headway with the bottle, finishing a good third of its’ contents on his own in his boredom while Shelton had gone to get ready for the night.

After reassuring Shelton that he would stay, Shelton had lead him to the table which Eugene was now seated at and made sure he had all the alcohol he needed before disappearing behind the stage with a wink. It was probably where the entertainers’ wardrobes were, and Eugene kept an eye on the curtain as he waited expectantly for Shelton to return.

It was well into the evening when a few people started trickling into the club, appearing in couples or larger groups, all looking happy, almost relieved, as they enter, the place obviously a sanctuary of sorts to them.

Eugene, whose head is already a bit fuzzy from the brandy, feels a pleasant warmth bloom in his chest as he watches same-sex partners affectionately kiss and giggle together and his mind, so relaxed and loose from the spirits, thinks that he’d like to try that with Shelton someday too if he ever got the chance to.  

He’s so wrapped in these thoughts that he doesn’t notice the figure that slinks up to him before they are taking a seat on one of the chair’s armrests. Eugene looks up to see Shelton sitting there, back in his female persona, but if possible, looking more gorgeous than the night before now that Eugene gets to see him properly up-close.

“They look happy, don’t they,” Shelton breathes, his voice light as he followed Eugene’s gaze to where he’d been looking at the crowds, completely unaware that he had Eugene’s full attention.

Eugene nods numbly, drinking in every single detail of this creature in front of him. Shelton was wearing the same dark wig as yesterday, the dark curls running down and past his shoulders, framing his face to look smaller and daintier, hiding the sharp angles Eugene knows are there. The dress is different though. This one reaches all the way to the floor and has glossy red silk material with a deep plunge, the thin shoulder straps and loose fabric giving the illusion of breasts on Shelton’s skinny frame. His face is also made up, black coal circling his eyes and a dark lipstick covering his lips that stretches into a wide smile as he catches Eugene staring.

“Seeing something you like, Sledgehammer?” He teases, nudging Eugene slightly.

“You’re gorgeous,” Eugene says faintly before realizing what he’d just said and blushes profusely, silently cursing the alcohol for not being able to control his thought-to-mouth filter.

Shelton just laughs at him good naturedly, but Eugene can detect the faintest trace of pink dusting his high cheekbones at the compliment and can’t help but feel slightly smug that he had made Merriell Snafu Shelton flustered.

“My act is ‘bout to begin, you got everythin’ ya need?” he asks, glancing over at the bottle sitting at Eugene’s table.  

Understanding Shelton’s not very subtle suggestion, he tried to quickly shut it down, knowing that if Shelton had things his way Eugene would not be able to walk out of here later, “Yep, I’m good. I’ve got everything I need. No need to think about me.”

Shelton gives him an amused look, but before he can comment on Eugene’s weirdness, the lights in the club dim down and the crowd around them falls quiet as all the attention turns to the stage.

“Ready for a show, Sledgehammer?” Shelton drawls before snatching Eugene’s drink out of his hand and downing it, ignoring Eugene’s protests as he saunters away with a cocky confidence which Eugene couldn’t even comprehend he was able to muster while walking in heels like that.

Grudgingly, Eugene pours himself another glass as he admires Shelton from behind as he walks away from him.

Shelton jumps up onto the stage which surprising grace, shooting the man settling at the piano an acknowledging smile as he grabs the microphone. The spotlight switches on, and Shelton’s whole demeanor changes into something sensual and exciting, almost erotic, which is a word Eugene thought he’d never associate with someone like Shelton but there was no other way to describe him as he watches him now.

Shelton smirks in his direction with a wink as the pianoplayer hits the first couple of notes, the music settling into a mid-tempo before Shelton starts singing.

_“Havana, ooh na-na, Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh-na-na,”_

Unlike yesterday’s performance, Shelton is swinging leisurely to the music, every movement seductive and deliberate; his shoulders rolling in beat with the music as he slides a hand up his own thigh, going to his hair to drag through it as the curls falls around his face messily. Eugene’s throat is tightening at the sight and he takes a long sip of his drink without taking his eyes of Shelton.    

Suddenly, Shelton is looking directly at him and Eugene swallows down the brandy anxiously, the alcohol burning his throat as it feels like Shelton’s staring into his very soul. It was the same stare that he so often opted for in the Pacific, his large eyes challenging and piercing at the same time, _“Ooh-ooh-ooh, I knew it when I met him - I loved him when I left him,”_ They might as well have been alone in that room at that moment as if Shelton is singing only to Eugene, the lyrics meant for his ears alone.

Shelton’s eyes snap away as quickly as they’d come, and the spell is broken as he once again performs for the room, _“Got me feelin’ like Ooh-ooh-ooh, and then I had to tell him I had to go,”_

Eugene is struck by the implications of the lyrics as he listens to Shelton sing, and even though the song is unfamiliar to him, he can easily guess the meaning behind it and thinks that Shelton couldn’t have possibly picked this song at random as every line strikes a chord in Eugene’s heart.  

His ears are ringing, and he is barely able to focus on the rest of the song as his thoughts swirl out of control of what this could mean. He feels entirely overwhelmed all of the sudden with so many revelations in a day; not only did he discover how he felt about Shelton, but Shelton reciprocated those feelings – or, at least Eugene thinks he does, there was no other way to interpret this performance. Happiness and anxiety wells up in his chest and Eugene thinks he might combust from all these emotions inside of him.

The music is starting to dim as the song hits its’ last couple of verses, and Eugene forces himself to return his attention to Shelton who thankfully hadn’t noticed his brief mental absence.  

 _“Oh, but my heart is in Havana, My heart is in Havana, Havana, ooh na-na, No, no, no, take me back, Oh na-na-na, Havana, ooh na-na_.”

The song ends, and Shelton bows with a mild smile on his face as the small crowd applauds, ignoring the few of them that is wolf-whistling at him as he jumps of the stage and approaches Eugene’s table, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through the redhead’s mind. He reclaims his seat on Eugene’s armrest, invading his personal space as he steals another sip of Eugene’s brandy, his body heat burning into Eugene’s side.

“So, whadd’ya think?” He’s drawls, though Eugene can hear the hint of insecurity well concealed underneath the cocky attitude. Eugene finds himself incapable of responding as he is once again captured by this beauty in front of him. He must spend a little too long without saying anything as Shelton’s huffs at him dismissively and lights a cigarette.

Eugene’s eyes go to Shelton’s lips wrapping around the cigarette, the lipstick tainting the filter a dark red, then back up to meet his eyes that seems impossibly larger with dark coal drawn around them and highlighting the colors of his eyes. Eugene has to force himself to get a grip and get his feelings under wraps, knowing that Shelton expects some kind of response, and he manages to breath a, “I liked it, it was really good.”

Shelton’s breath smells like alcohol and tobacco as he breathes smoke in Eugene’s face, impossibly close as he leans even further into Eugene’s personal space as he smirks, “Just good? Come now Gene, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all night. You’ve not been able to take your eyes off me.” The words are purred in the same low tones as Eugene had used, sending shivers down Eugene’s spine.

The room seems unbearably hot all of a sudden, and Eugene has to pop open the top two buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers in hopes to cool down. The motion completely betrays his attempt to regain his control of the situation as he huffs, “I didn’t know you were paying so close attention to me, Snafu. It almost makes me think it’s you who’s not been able to take your eyes of me.”

It’s a weak response and they both know it, but Shelton give Eugene the courtesy of just giving an amused snort around his cigarette as he murmurs a, “Maybe so.”

They settle into a comfortable silence as they watch the rest of the room together, barely any words said between them as they are exchanging Eugene’s tumbler of brandy back and forth, and Eugene revels in each time their fingers brush as they pass the glass back to the other.

Shelton’s presence on his side is becoming heavier as the night moves on, almost having slid into Eugene’s lap when they are about three-quarters into the brandy-bottle and when staying perched on the armrest becomes too much of an effort.

They had been sitting in silence for such a long time that Eugene startles slightly when he hears Shelton say quietly, “It’s quite hot in here, isn’t it?” Eugene glances down to see Shelton’s eye glitter up at him from where his head is resting on his shoulder, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Shelton slides off the chair and stretches experimentally, the red dress’ open back exposing the lean muscles tightening in the jut of his shoulder blades and along his spine as he does this. He smiles flirtatiously over one of his shoulders at Eugene then before offering out his hand for Eugene to take, “You comin’, Sledgehammer?

Eugene grabs the hand without thinking twice, and he’s hauled up from the chair and through the crowd to the bar upstairs where Greg is blessedly absent. Shelton vaults over the bar counter with surprising dexterity for wearing that long dress and those heels and starts searching through one of the cabinets underneath.

“Greg hides all the good shit down here,” Shelton explains when Eugene leans over the counter to give him a curious look. Eugene is barely able to see the mischievous grin on his face which is partially covered by the large, curly wig he’s wearing.

“Do you not want to change before we leave?” Eugene asks, the alcohol in his system making him outspoken with his concern.

Shelton just waves at him dismissively, muttering about darkness and drunken idiots too shitfaced to notice, before exclaiming a triumphant, “Aha!”

He brandishes a bottle of a whiskey which brand Eugene doesn’t recognize, but the sight of it alone makes his fuzzy head protest the notion of more booze in his system, so he considers the bottle with the most unimpressed look he can muster as he says, “We have had plenty.”

Shelton eyes him critically before shrugging, taking the bottle with him anyway as he pushes past Eugene, ignoring the stares he receives from the few men scattered around the bar as he walks outside. 

Eugene has no other choice than to run after him, doing his best to ignore the staring tenants, only shooting a glare in the direction of one of the older guys who gives him a thumb up as he passes.

The night air seems to clear his head a little bit as he gets outside, falling in step with Shelton who was walking down the street while sipping on his newly acquired bottle of whiskey.

Shelton offers it to him, but Eugene politely refuses until Shelton practically hits him in the face with it. He reluctantly takes a sip, the alcohol burning his mouth and throat, making him cough, “I thought you said this was good shit,” he says, grimacing.

The wicked smile he gets in return is the only answers he gets as Shelton snatches the bottle back from him to take another sip as he starts skipping ahead down the street and Eugene has to slip into a jog to keep up with him.

Eugene isn’t aware of where Shelton is leading them as he dances down the street, but Eugene finds that he doesn’t really care where they are going as he watches Shelton twirl around leisurely, seeming entirely carefree as hums to himself, his movement smooth and graceful despite the large of amount of spirits he’s consumed.

As if he’s able to sense Eugene’s heavy stare, Shelton floats back over to him, invading his personal space for the nth time that evening. 

“Dance with me,” he demands as he wraps his arms around Eugene’s neck.

“I, uh,” Eugene stutters, looking around the empty street, “Here?”

Shelton smiles at him, that rare, tender smile that Eugene started to suspect only he was privy to, “Yeah, don’t worry about it, no one will see.” His long fingers drum the nape of Eugene’s neck, curling into his short hair as he urges Eugene’s body to move, who hesitantly let himself be lead to whatever beat Shelton is imaging.

As they slowly sway back and forth together under the dim street lights, Shelton rest his head on Eugene’s shoulder as he quietly starts to hum a tune Eugene recognizes. One that he remembered from one particular night when they had huddled together in the mud and the shelling around them had been so loud that Eugene been constantly snapped out of restless sleep, and Shelton had gently shushed him as he urged Eugene to go back to sleep. It had been when Eugene was slipping back into a dreamless haze that he had heard the quiet, raspy humming of what Eugene had assumed then was just a tuneless song, but now wasn’t so sure.

They dance like this for a while, and Eugene ponders on the Shelton doing female impersonation compared to the one he had known in the Pacific. That Shelton seemed so carefree and flirtatious, while the one he had known in the Pacific was so reserved and angry, only showing this level of care to pull Eugene back from the brink of losing his humanity. And then there was the Shelton he had met this afternoon who was neither here nor there, and Eugene thinks that maybe Merriell Shelton was a different being entirely, reserved and cocky but caring when given the chance. Eugene liked to think it was Merriell he was dancing with now, that he didn’t feel the need to pretend to be anyone else around Eugene just like Eugene didn’t feel the need to pretend to be anyone else around Merriell.

In a moment of recklessness at this thought, Eugene grabs Shelton’s slim hips, lifting him up and spinning them around as he laughs, reveling in the surprised squeak that escaped Shelton’s lips and the way the red material of Shelton’s dress billows out around them beautifully.

Shelton is laughing along with Eugene by the time he puts him back down, his cheeks a rosy red from happiness and alcohol, and Eugene’s own drunken mind feels even fuzzier with heady excitation and affection at the sight of Shelton like this, so willing to trust Eugene to show this side of himself.

Their laughter has turned breathless when Shelton tugs at his hand again. “Come on,” he says, leading them down through an alley and down another series of streets, pointing out landmarks to Eugene as they pass them. Shelton doesn’t really know much about the history behind any of them, but he seems to have a story for every single one anyway, all of them relating to him being a miscreant in his youth of some sort. Eugene listens attentively, occasionally commenting on the stories Shelton tells and pointing out that he isn’t surprised of all the trouble Shelton had gotten into back in the day, which Shelton’s answers with a charming grin.

Eugene doesn’t even know where they are before he sees the façade of Shelton’s apartment complex, and he feels his heart sink as he realizes that the night has come to an end.

“I should get back to the motel,” He says, letting go of Shelton’s hand.

Shelton looks at him confused before understanding seems to dawn on him before he says, “Fuck that. You’ve got free accommodation right here, Sledge, and ‘sides, does your stupid-ass motel have any booze? I t’ink not.” He shakes the half-full bottle of whiskey empathically while a cocky smirk stretches over his dark lips, “Trusts me, you should stick with me here, I am clearly the better option.” 

Eugene hums, pretending to consider this carefully as if doesn’t already know that Shelton is right, “I don’t know Shelton… You see, you once told me,” Eugene starts before chuckling to himself at the memory, not even unsure if Shelton remembers now, “Not to trust the Cajun women. That they’d steal my money as well as my heart. Seems like one of these times, don’tcha think?”

Shelton stares at him blankly for a moment, clearly trying to understand what Eugene is talking about before it seems to click in his brain and he barks a laugh, shoving Eugene in the shoulder while muttering about how much of an asshole he is.

“But seriously, Gene,” Shelton says, suddenly serious, all humor gone from his voice as he looks at Eugene with large eyes, “Don’t go back to the motel. Not yet.”

Before Eugene knows he even agreed, he is standing in Shelton’s apartment, which is a small studio with a tiny kitchen in the far corner, the counter stacked high with coffee cups and not much else. There’s also a worn armchair siting by the large window, a full ashtray balancing on the windowsill within arm’s reach, and a small coffee table placed next to the chair with a small book sitting innocently on top of it. A dresser and Shelton’s small double bed were pushed in the other end of the room, though there weren’t all that much space separating the sleeping-space from the kitchen, the apartment just a fraction larger than Eugene’s own bedroom.

Shelton is already pouring them a drink into two clean mugs when Eugene is done studying the room, pushing the cup into Eugene’s hand without a word before leaning back against the kitchen counter with a cup of his own. He refrains from taking a sip of it though as he just stares thoughtfully into his drink as he worries his lower lip, smudging his lipstick with his teeth.

“Snafu, if you stare any harder at that all the whiskey will evaporate into thin air and I’m not having you steal any more of mine,” Eugene says, attempting a snappy comment to get Shelton out of this funny mood he’s so suddenly wrapped up in.

It seems to work, Shelton’s eyes snapping up to meet his for a brief second before sliding back down to the golden liquid cradled between his long fingers. He chews on his lips for a moment longer before heaving a long-suffering sigh, a concentrated frown forming on his made-up face, “Eugene, we really need to talk. We can’t just pretend that what happened on the train didn’t happen.”

Eugene stands stock-still as Shelton struggles with formulating his thoughts, not sure if he should stop Shelton from talking or if he should let him continue, knowing it is a long overdue conversation they need to have. Doing this while intoxicated was probably not the best idea, probably would result in another fight, but maybe that’s what they needed to get the words out, to get this out in the open. God knew they were both terrible at expressing themselves after all.

“Shit, Sledge, I don’t know how to fuckin’ do this,” Shelton says irritably as he hugs himself and looks down at his feet, the dark curls from his wig obscuring his features. He’s clearly feeling vulnerable about this topic of conversation, but he forces himself to continue with some struggle, “I’m fuckin’ sorry, alright? I was a coward and ’ve regretted the decision the moment I stepped of the train, but sayin’ goodbye to you… I just couldn’t. I didn’t deserve to be in your life, didn’t deserve you, so what was the point, y’know?”

As he talked, Shelton seemed to deflate more and more, his shoulders hunching defensively and his jaw tight, as he tried to keep all these emotions that plagued him under tight wraps but didn’t quite manage it judging from the shine Eugene could see glazing his eyes.

Seeing him like this has an instantaneous sobering effect on Eugene, who sets his cup down carefully as he approaches Shelton like he would a dangerous animal, pushing away the hair and letting his fingers trace carefully over the other’s jaw, thinking of how Shelton had done this for him only hours earlier.

“Merriell,” he says kindly, quietly begging him to look at him.

Shelton heaves a shuddering breath before looking back up to meet Eugene’s searching gaze, his lips pressed into a stubborn line and his eyes wide with unshed tears.

“Who are you to decide who I deserve, hm?” Eugene says when Shelton remains silent, letting his fingers trail from Shelton’s jaw to his shark cheekbones and his temples, finding their way to where his skin meets the lines of his wig and carefully threads themselves underneath the lace, pushing it off with as much gentleness as he can muster.

Placing the wig on the back of the armchair without taking his eyes off Shelton’s, Eugene pushes a tender hand through his natural hair, the dark, glossy curls bouncing back to life beneath his fingers and seem to almost curl around and caress each digit as they thread through them.

The world seems to come to a standstill around them then, Eugene’s gaze traveling down to Shelton’s lips then back up to his eyes as he leans forward hesitantly.

Shelton meets him halfway, their noses bumping together awkwardly before Shelton tilts his head, his soft lips pressing into Eugene’s almost shyly. The kiss is slow and tender at first, as if they are scared to break whatever spell that had fallen between them, only turning into something heated when Eugene tighten his grip in Shelton’s hair. Shelton gasps into his mouth and Eugene wastes no time in using the opportunity to lick the roof of Shelton’s mouth, the teeth gracing his tongue sending an excited tremor through him.

Feeling emboldened by the responses he’s getting, Eugene – without breaking their kiss, hoists Shelton up on the counter, who opens up his legs so Eugene can fit into the narrow space between his exposed thighs, his long dress bunching up at his hips.

He feels hot all over as Shelton’s hands travel down his chest, slipping under his shirt and caressing his sides, his mouth opening up against Eugene’s and biting down on his lower lip. Eugene jerks in surprise, but Shelton wraps his long legs around him, effectively trapping Eugene against him and pressing him closer into his body, and Eugene can feel the other’s erection press against his stomach, making his own twitch with interest.  

“Bed,” Shelton manages between breathless kisses, and Eugene doesn’t need to be told twice as he secures a hold of Shelton underneath his thighs and at the small of his back. Shelton’s legs tighten around Eugene’s waist as he carries him to the bed and Shelton uses the opportunity to attack Eugene’s jugular with his mouth, sucking at it enthusiastically, almost surely leaving a mark.

Eugene drops him unceremoniously on the bed and Shelton lands with an umph, looking stunned and appropriately debauched, as if he cannot quite believe what is happening. Neither can Eugene, who stares down at the man in front of him.

The red material of his long dress is fanned out around him, looking like blood-red wings by the way the fabric flows and flutters as Shelton shifts, pushing himself upright on one elbow. One of the straps on Shelton’s dress slips from his shoulder as he sits up, exposing a skinny, tanned chest.

He looks up at Eugene, his voice taking on the same quality it’d done when Sledge had been told that Deacon had passed away. “Gene,” he says, and Eugene hears how it’s laced with concern.

Eugene leans into him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as he asks, “What are you thinking?” 

“Are ya sure you want this?” he returns as he searches Eugene’s face.

Instead of answering, Eugene presses another kiss to lips, this one confident, almost painful in its’ intensity before letting his lips trail lightly down, kissing Shelton’s throat, his prominent collarbones, all the way down to his dark nipples, which he nips and sucks at until Shelton writhes beneath him with a loud moan.

“Fuck,” Shelton groans loudly as Eugene twist and rolls the other bud between his fingers, and it’s the most wonderful sound Eugene has ever heard.

When Eugene glances up from his administrations he catches Shelton staring down at him with something akin to wonder on his face. It’s a look that makes Eugene surge back up and kiss him fiercely, letting Shelton slip his tongue into his mouth as Eugene starts working on the buttons of his shirt, suddenly desperate to remove all these layers between them.

His shirt comes off first, followed closely by his undershirt which is ripped off in such a hurry that he is sure hears the fabric tear slightly in the process. Shelton lays underneath him, his eyes roaming over him in hungrily despite having seen Eugene shirtless plenty of times before.

“You’re gorgeous, anyone ever told ya that,” Shelton breathes, sounding completely fascinated as he places a hand over Eugene’s heart, which is pounding loudly in his chest.

Feeling slightly self-conscious with all the attention, Eugene tugs experimentally at the silky material of Shelton’s dress, hoping to remove it soon so they’d be on equal ground in terms of nakedness.

Shelton seems to snap out of whatever stupor he’d been stuck in as he’d studied Eugene to slap his grabby hands away from the fabric, “Don’t you dare treat this dress the same way you just treated your shirt. It’s fuckin’ expensive and my money-maker to boot, I will not have you ruin it.”

Eugene is about to answer that he would never only to get distracted as he spots another layer of silky material on Shelton’s body as Shelton carefully removes his dress with well-practiced ease.

“Adds to the illusion,” Shelton winks at him as he catches Eugene’s line of sight.

“Uh,” Eugene says intelligently as he stares at the offensive lingerie that is doing a downright terrible job of concealing Shelton’s erection that is straining against the slippery material. It occurs to him then that he doesn’t really know anything about sex, especially sex with another man, and the panicked feelings he had been experiencing far too often as of late threatens to overwhelm him once again.

As if reading his mind from the emotions unfurling on Eugene’s features, Shelton grabs the back of his neck to draw Eugene’s attention to him as he whispers softly, “Let me show you.” Eugene feels Shelton’s hand lose its’ grip as it travels downwards, sliding down his abdomen to play with the buttons of his pants as his eyes blaze with intensity, “I want to show you.”

Eugene nods numbly at him and let Shelton remove his pants and underwear as he kisses every expanse of skin he can get access to with such assurance and care that Eugene can slowly feel his insecurities trickle away to once again be replaced by excitement.

Soon enough he’s panting and squirming on the bed as Shelton had flipped their positions, nipping and kissing at his thighs and lower stomach, carefully exploring every nook and cranny, pressing soft kisses to every imperfection on Eugene’s boy. He pays excruciating attention to everywhere but where Eugene needed it the most and he is incapable of containing the impatient whine when Shelton licks a particularly long stripe on his inner thigh, stopping only inches from the root of his cock which is already leaking with clear droplets of precum.

Shelton chuckles at him, though it sound strained to Eugene’s ears who glance down at Shelton whose pupils are so dilated that they make his eyes look void of any color. Shelton licks his lips hungrily from his position between Eugene’s trembling thighs before muttering a, “give me a sec,” and leans over Eugene to retrieve a jar from the dresser next to the bed.

“Vaseline,” Shelton explains at Eugene’s confused expression as he uncaps the jar and scoops up a generous dollop, the gel coating his fingers as he kicks of his silk lingerie and sits back on his haunches, his cock bobbing between his thighs drawing all of Eugene’s attention.

He seems to consider Eugene for a moment before bringing the fingers back around him, a groan escaping him as Eugene watches him push a single digit into himself, closely followed by a second that Shelton moves around in a scissoring motion, his groans turning into breathes pants as he’s fingering himself.

Eugene’s is positive he’s never been more turned on his life as he watches Shelton shudder around the fingers inside him, Eugene’s dick turning so painfully hard that he is sure he could come right then and there from the sight alone.

“Eugene,”

Eugene feels long, lubed-up fingers wrap around his erection and he gasps as he feels them coat him from the tip to root, only stroking up and down the sensitive skin a few times before disappearing, though Eugene doesn’t have time to mourn the loss of them as Shelton traps his hips between his thighs and position himself above him, barely given Eugene the time to process what he’s about to do before he slides down on Eugene’s cock, making them both moan loudly.

Shelton is so fucking tight, and Eugene’s head is spinning from the alcohol and the added pressure, and he doesn’t realize that he should probably do something before Shelton wiggles experimentally on top of him.

Eugene’s hands shoot up to grab hold of Shelton’s hips as he starts moving them in a steady rhythm, lifting himself almost all the way off Eugene’s erection before slamming back down. The sound of skin slapping together, and their breathless gasps are the only sounds filling up the room, and Eugene feels a pressure building up in his lower abdomen that screams for more, screams for release.

A primal part of Eugene’s brain takes over then, and he tightens his grip on Shelton’s hips as he flips them around. Shelton looks surprised at this sudden turn of his events before Eugene captures his lips in a biting kiss, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he slams into Shelton.

“Merriell, Merriell, Merriell,” Eugene hears himself repeat against Shelton’s mouth as he fucks into the man who writhes underneath him.

When Eugene changes the angle slightly and hits a particular spot, Shelton let’s out a low moan followed by an incoherent stream of, “Fuck, Eugene, right there. Shit. Right there, please, fuck me,” and Eugene, having never really been able to deny Shelton anything, obeys.

It doesn’t take long before his thrusts become erratic and lose the steady pace he’d set for them, but Shelton doesn’t seem to mind as he clings to Eugene with one arm slung around his neck, the other starting to stroke himself as his breath is coming out in short pants while muttering a senseless string of, “Eugene, Gene, please please please, fuck,” that makes Eugene moan with gratification.

Eugene’s whole body tenses as he comes inside Shelton, the feeling so overpowering and intense he bites down hard on Shelton clavicle to suppress the feeling to scream as his orgasm rips through him. The instant his teeth makes contact with Shelton’s skin, Shelton gasps loudly as he follows Eugene over the edge, staining both his and Eugene’s stomach with fluid as he shudders through the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

Eugene’s arms tremble from the strain of supporting himself and a sudden feeling of bone-deep tiredness settles over him as he feels himself running empty, making him collapse on top of the other man who groans a protest as Eugene slips out of him and rolls off.

“That was amazing,” is all Eugene manages to say, completely blissed out as he watches Shelton lean away and pick up his ripped undershirt from the floor to clean them off. Eugene would usually have protested, but right now it seems too much of an effort to say anything at all, so he lets Shelton wipe him off without a word.

“Get some sleep,” Shelton says affectionately as he kisses Eugene softly, curling up next to him when he’s done cleaning them both, his eyes glittering in the darkness, “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”  

Eugene reaches out and wraps his arms around Shelton’s smaller form, hugging him to his chest tightly. Eugene feels Shelton tens up in his arms for barely a second before melting into him completely, and Eugene barely hears the “Good night, Sledgehammer,” before he slips into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

…

The next morning Eugene wakes up curled around Shelton, his arms pulling him flush against him and Eugene can feel a warmth spread through him as he feels Shelton’s heart beat in tune with his, both a strong steady rhythm. Eugene looks down to consider Shelton’s slack face as he sleeps, seeming so impossibly youthful and innocent like this, and it almost takes Eugene’s breath away.  

Eugene easily spots the angry red teeth-marks he bit into Shelton’s clavicle last night, and a possessive feeling settles in the pits of his heart as he lets his fingers ghost over the markings, not quite touching as he counts each indent carefully as he’s reminded of the night they had before, how amazing it’d felt to finally get to have this with Shelton. They still had a lot to talk about, a lot of painful things to figure out between them, but this was a new start between and that was all that Eugene could ever wish or ask for.

Eugene isn’t sure how much time passes before Shelton stirs, rubbing at his eyes tiredly and smudging the little makeup that had managed to prevail through their activities last night.

“Mornin’,” Shelton murmurs, pressing his face back into the crook of Eugene’s neck as he yawns widely. The sight alone makes a happiness that Eugene hasn’t felt in a long time bloom and swell in his chest, seeming to unfurl to the very tips of his toes.

“Beautiful,” Eugene whispers to himself, trailing his fingers along Shelton’s cheekbones and down to the sharp slope of his jaw before settling gently in the hollow of his throat as he counts every single inhale and exhale that Shelton makes.   

Shelton watches him carefully and Eugene can see that his face is for once not guarded by an angry frown or a flirtatious smile, but completely bare of any defenses and Eugene knows then that it is Merriell who is laying wrapped up his arms, and this, Eugene thinks, this is home.  

“Will you stay?”

“Yes.”


End file.
